


In Which Things Get Intimate

by TheRaven



Series: POTC Reincarnation AU [2]
Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: Agender Character, Blow Jobs, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, agender jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:51:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRaven/pseuds/TheRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Will, reincarnated and looking for their old friends, often share a bed at the motels they stay at. Tonight is a little different, though...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Things Get Intimate

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between chapters 2 and 3 of "Pirates Never die (They Just Change a Little)." It's not necessary to read that fic to understand this one, but it does contain details regarding how the characters have changed in their reincarnated forms. This is just pure smut, which is why I made it a separate fic to the main one. I couldn't resist. Hope y'all enjoy, and don't be afraid to leave comments and/or kudos.

They share a bed when they scrape together enough cash for a motel room instead of spending the night under a bridge or off the side of the highway. Will doesn't mind it, really; they usually manage a queen-sized bed, and there's plenty of room. His masculinity is also not so fragile that he balks at the idea of sharing a bed with another man. Besides, this way, they both get a good night's sleep occasionally. 

This time is no different. They check in, pay up front, and head down the hall to a dingy but clean room with an old television and threadbare towels. The comforter is old and faded, but it's warn, and the sheets are softer than he expected. He strips down to his boxers and undershirt and takes his turn in the bathroom to get ready for bed, and he settles down to sleep.

Except this time, his mind wanders, and it always seems to settle on his companion. James—Jack—has a strangely alluring quality to him that makes it difficult not to go along with his plans, however ridiculous or ill-advised they may be. He's like a whirlpool: easy to get caught in and near-impossible to break free of. And now that he knows they were friends in a past life, well, it makes more sense that he can't stop thinking about him.

Jack is already asleep, though he probably won't be for long. Will knows that he has nightmares, and he knows that those nightmares wake him up after almost exactly an hour of restless sleep no matter how many times he tries to fall asleep again. Usually, Will sleeps through it, exhausted by a day of traveling, but tonight, he finds himself unable to sleep at all. He replays memories of this life along with patchy, fuzzy memories of his past life, all of them related to Jack, and wonders if he will get a good night's sleep after all.

Jack rolls over, closer to Will, and he suddenly feels Jack's body heat against his side even though he's not even close to touching him. It's not entirely comfortable, but it's also not entirely uncomfortable. And while he has been sharing a bed with Jack off and on for a month and a half, it has been a long time since someone slept close enough to him for Will to feel the warmth of their body.

Will closes his eyes and tries to ignore the strange feelings that threaten to make themselves known. He moves a little closer to the edge of the bed to escape Jack's body heat, but he swears he can still feel it. Uneasy, he contemplates getting up, but that might wake Jack, and he needs all the sleep he can get. So Will just lays there, muscles tense and stomach churning unpleasantly, and tries to sleep.

“I'm not poisonous, mate,” Jack says suddenly.

“I didn't know you were awake,” Will admits, feeling a little guilty.

“Why are you balanced on the edge of the bed like that?” Jack asks him, propping himself up with one arm and giving him a small smile.

“I, uh, didn't want to crowd you,” Will says, fully aware of how flimsy an explanation it is.

“Are you afraid of me?” Jack asks him, thoughtful.

“No, I, uh—“

Will's stomach lurches again, this time in a way he knows all too well. He tries not to stare at Jack but finds himself looking at his mouth, and an urge he desperately tries to claw back down makes its unwelcome appearance. His face goes pink, and he finds that he can't continue with what he was saying. Jack just looks at him and smiles wider.

“Nothing wrong with sharing body heat,” he says nonchalantly. “It saves energy, you know.”

“I don't think we need to conserve energy that badly,” Will says, a little more tersely than he'd intended. 

“Maybe not,” Jack says with a shrug.

There's a short, awkward silence, during which Will's mind not-so-helpfully supplies him with all manner of things Jack could have meant. Frustrated, he sits up, and Jack follows suit, regarding him thoughtfully. His long, unruly hair sticks out at all angles, and the eyeliner he neglected to remove before bed is smudged in a way that's not entirely unattractive, but Will doesn't want to think about that. He starts to get up, but Jack puts out a hand to stop him.

“You don't have to hide things from me,” Jack says quietly. “I remember more than you do, you know. Nothing you could say or do would shock me, or make me leave this room.”

He pauses.

“Unless you want me to leave,” he adds.

“No, you don't have to leave,” Will manages to say after a few moments. “But you...you flirt with everyone, don't you?”

“Aye,” Jack says. “Being cordial is in my nature, and you could call that flirtation, I suppose.”

“But you don't—shit,” Will mutters.

“Don't what? Mean it?” Jack grins. “Of course I mean it. I always do. But people always seem surprised at that for some reason.”

“So you're—what are you?” Will asks, uncertain but decidedly interested now.

“Who's to say?” Jack says with another shrug. “I like what I like. And that includes yourself.”

He's being remarkably calm and straightforward about all this. And now that he's sitting up, covers pooling into his lap, Jack's lean chest and arms are barely visible in the green light of the alarm clock. Will definitely has the urge to touch him, but he still doesn't want to acknowledge it, much less act on it. So he just stares pointedly at Jack's face, trying to ignore the thought of how Jack's mouth would feel on his skin, and tries to formulate a reply that will shut this whole mess down.

“You don't have to ignore it, you know,” Jack says. “I can tell what you're thinking, and it is absolutely fine with me if you go about indulging your baser impulses. You're probably overdue for it anyway.”

That explicit permission breaks what little resolve Will has, and he lets out a shaky breath of air. Jack, sensing that he's given in, pulls Will closer to him and settles into his lap.

“Just tell me if you want to stop,” Jack tells him, cupping his jaw in one hand.

And then Jack's lips are on his, and it's strange and wonderful and he definitely needs more of this in his life. Jack's facial hair prickles at his lips and chin, but his mouth, when he parts his lips, is hot and wet like any other, and when Jack's tongue cautiously slides against his own, Will gasps and kisses him back with a ferocity even he isn't expecting.

Jack's lips leave his much too soon, but instead of pulling back, Jack shifts his attention to Will's jaw and neck, nipping and sucking his way down to Will's collarbone. This is, Will thinks, quite nice, and he bites back a moan when Jack sucks a bruise into the skin above his collarbone. He would really like for Jack to mark him somewhere people can see, he realizes, but maybe that can happen later. Because right now, Jack is rucking up his shirt so that he can devote his attention to Will's chest, and his mouth feels every bit as good against his skin as he thought it would.

“Wait,” Will says suddenly, as Jack works his way down to Will's stomach.

“You want me to stop?” Jack asks, looking a little disappointed.

“No, I just—I've never—done anything like this with a man,” he admits haltingly, face reddening.

“Well, then that's no problem,” Jack says brightly, “because I am in fact not a man.”

“But you—“ Will gives him a quizzical look. “If you're not a man, then what are you?”

“Hard to say for certain,” Jack says with a shrug. “But I can assure you that I am decidedly not a man.”

This is a strange time to be discussing the intricacies of gender, so Will doesn't bother. Instead, he pulls Jack back up and into a kiss, which Jack returns with vigor, and wonders how exactly he wound up in this situation. But Jack's hands are on him, burning him with the lightest brush of skin, and he can't think about anything for long except how to get more of this slightly terrifying but oh-so-satisfying pleasure.

“Will, my boy,” Jack says when they break for air, “I have a certain notion that I'd like to be getting you off. Now, if it's not objectionable to you, I'd like to dispense with the foreplay—which is, undoubtedly, very nice—and get to the main event.”

“Jesus, Jack,” Will groans. “You really do have a way with words.”

“Is that permission?” Jack asks, grinning.

“Yes, yes, of course it is,” Will says.

Jack's grin widens, and he makes his way back down Will's body, mouthing and nipping at his skin until he reaches the waistband of his boxers. He glances up at Will as though to make sure he isn't going to stop him again, and, apparently satisfied, quickly divests Will of his underwear. Will wonders if he should feel self-conscious; they might have been sharing a bed, but Will still can't remember much about Jack, and it feels like they're acquaintances at best. Jack puts a stop to the thinking, though, by settling between his legs and lavishing the head and underside of his cock with open-mouthed kisses.

“Jesus!” Will gasps, and bites his fist to keep from getting too loud.

“I understand the desire to be quiet when we're in a place with walls as thin as this,” Jack says idly, pausing in his ministrations, “but if you let me do this again—and I dearly hope you will—I promise I will find a place to do it where I can wring a variety of beautiful sounds out of you.”

If he wasn't rock-hard already, that would do it. Will closes his eyes, because he's a little afraid that if he watches Jack, he won't be able to last more than a minute. And as it is, Jack's lips and tongue and the barest hint of teeth are driving him dangerously close to that edge, even though he has yet to actually take him into his mouth. Will swallows and tries to calm himself down even as Jack makes a small, appreciative sound and finally puts those devastatingly tempting lips around the head of his cock.

He wastes no time, working what he can't get into his mouth with his hand, and Will's hips jerk upward. Jack laughs around him, the vibration just making his hips jerk again, and holds him down with his free hand while he moves. Will bites his knuckles so hard he tastes blood. Jack's mouth is hot and wet and perfect, stretched wide to accommodate his cock like it's the most natural thing in the world. He pulls off of him just when Will feels like he might explode, and when Will opens his eyes, startled, he sees that Jack looks utterly serene.

“Try not to choke me,” Jack says. “Not that I don't like it, but I'd rather be able to talk tomorrow.”

Will starts to say something, though he hasn't quite decided what when he opens his mouth, but Jack's mouth is on him again, and he's swallowing him down.

“Oh, God,” Will utters as he feels Jack's lips around the base of his cock.

Jack moans, and it's almost enough to make Will come. Instead, he grips the sheets with his free hand, trying not to thrust up into Jack's throat. Jack pulls halfway off of him and swallows him down again, throat working around him, and digs his fingernails into Will's hips to keep him still. Will feels him pull off partway again and hears him take a breath, and that's all he can take.

“I—you should—I'm going to—“ He can't finish the thought, but he hopes Jack understands him.

And it seems like he does, because he pulls most of the way off of him and hollows out his cheeks, taking another breath just before Will's orgasm hits him. Will feels him swallow around him, though when it's over and Jack sits up, he wipes a line of white from the corner of his mouth. It's somehow hotter even than the fact that he's just gone down on him, but Will doesn't bother to contemplate why. He just grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him into a lazy kiss, chasing the bitterness of his own come. It should probably be disgusting, but he figures if Jack can handle the taste, so can he.

Jack shifts against him, and Will realizes that he's hard. It shouldn't be a surprise, really, but for some reason, he hasn't considered that Jack might actually be getting something out of this. Suddenly, he feels uncertain of how to proceed, and he pulls back.

“I don't know what to do,” he admits. “For you, I mean.”

“Mm,” Jack mumbles, mouthing at his neck. “Give me a moment, and I can take care of it.”

“You don't want me to do anything?” Will asks, because even though he's still feeling the afterglow, he's not an asshole.

“You've done plenty already,” Jack assures him.

He rolls off of Will and starts to unbutton his jeans, but then he pauses.

“If you don't want to see this, I can go into the bathroom,” he says.

“No, it's—it's fine,” Will insists.

He's not actually sure if it's fine, but it seems only fair. Will tries not to watch as Jack unzips his jeans and frees his cock—he's not wearing underwear, which explains why he's been sleeping in his jeans even when they have a proper bed to sleep in—but it's impossible not to look. Jack's cock is dripping with precome, which he smears over the shaft as lubrication. He wraps a hand around himself and starts up a pace that must be at least a little painful, but it takes less than a minute for him to come, so it must be pleasurable enough. Jack spills over his hand and absently licks it clean before he fumbles for tissues to clean himself up properly.

Jack kicks off his jeans and crawls back under the covers with a sigh when he's finished. Will thinks about retrieving his boxers, but he really doesn't feel like getting out of bed, so instead, he pulls off his undershirt and settles naked between the sheets. It feels dangerously intimate this way, but he supposes that they've already done more intimate things together than this, so it shouldn't be a big deal. Still, he lays awake long after Jack's breathing settles into the slow evenness of sleep, wondering if he's gotten himself in too deep.

He drifts off without realizing it, and when he wakes up around dawn, Jack is molded against his side. It should be disconcerting, but instead, it feels oddly comfortable. Jack's dark eyes open, and he smiles at him. Will sighs and closes his eyes. This is ridiculous, this is crazy, this is definitely ill-advised, but damned if it doesn't feel perfectly natural.


End file.
